


The Pants Problem

by Legolover



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Humor, contest prompt, missing pants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 20:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2241594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Legolover/pseuds/Legolover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom hated pants. Loathed their existence to the very core of his being. They were his greatest weakness and enemy. It was, of course, only fitting that he wake up attached to a pair that just would not come off. Time to call his favorite scientist to fix the problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pants Problem

**Author's Note:**

> This prompt came from a contest from Losille2000 over on Tumblr. She just reach 1K in followers and had an open contest to her followers. It was based around the concept of the game "MASH". This was my winning entry to the fun. Enjoy! :) 
> 
> Prompt #1 - Hiddleston as himself
> 
> Main Character: Jaguar!Tom  
> Favorite Activity: Making fangirls cry  
> Main Character’s “Enemy”: Pants/Underwear  
> # of Dependents: 3  
> Preferred Beverage: Tears of his fangirls  
> Vacation Destination: His mum’s house  
> Currently in: Scotland  
> Lives in: Mansion  
> Vehicle: Reasonably priced car  
> Color: Blue

The whole debacle was the most embarrassing and painful event of Tom’s villainous career—even after losing the majority of his fortune to a crooked Interpol agent who had vanished to some unknown part of the globe. He’d take losing his fortune again if it meant that the pants currently adhered to his body would come off. His scientist, Hazel Aberdeen, was valiantly trying to help him; however, every time she even grazed the fabric encasing his crotch, it constricted and chaffed his skin as though fire ants were nipping at his flesh.

“Stop twitching, Thomas. I can’t figure out how to get them off if you keep shuffling around.” Hazel scowled at him from beneath a pair of magnifying ocular goggles which made her look like she’d stuck googly eyes to her face. It would have made him laugh if the situation hadn’t been so dire.

“It burns whenever you attempt to move the fabric.” He growled from a locked jaw as he grabbed her wrists to halt her ministrations. “I. Can’t. Help. It.” 

She wrenched her arms free and glared at him. “Well then maybe you should pay more attention to who you screw over. Now shut up and grow a pair,” she said returning to her work.

_Screw_ …Tom chuckled with bitter delight at the term. He’d done more than just _that_ with Dr. Gretchen Hoffman before he’d stolen her research. She’d been incensed at his deed (scientists were so touchy these days), but he’d never thought he would see her again so he’d put her out of his mind. The payoff had been bigger than her ire. It was only when he’d found himself alone yesterday with a mysterious blonde, swaying under the effects of spiked champagne, that he realized just who he’d left himself vulnerable with.

“Goodnight, Tom.” She had whispered to him as she removed her flowing blonde wig, revealing her short cropped brown hair.

The last thing he remembered was her pressing a peck to his lips before crashing back onto the hotel bed. He woke up in a new level of the hell the next morning, naked and trapped in a pair of pants. He thought it had been some horrid joke until he couldn’t get them off. The briefs would only allow him the luxury of removal when going to the toilet and nothing else. They could not be forced off no matter how many ways he tugged and snared at the material. He’d called Hazel soon thereafter and she arrived with his twin assassins, Max and Otto in tow.

The two men had taken one look at their boss and laughed heartily at the sight of him before Hazel dismissed them to go procure Gretchen as expediently and alive as possible.

Tom had hoped that Hazel alone would have been able to solve the problem, but after another five hours in the cotton hell pit (which Hazel affectionately began to call _The Chastity Belt_ ) he knew he’d have to face that vindictive scientist again if he had any hope of removing these bloody pants from his body.

“This _woman_!” Hazel tore off her goggles and tossed them behind her as she stood up. She harshly removed her white clinical gloves as she slumped in front of her laptop, punching data into some program that Tom had no hopes of understanding. “Of all the people, Tom, you had to pick a level four mad scientist to steal from.”

“The money was too good to pass up.” Tom winced as he attempted to subtly readjust himself. “And we needed it.”

“I told you that if you sold the mansion in Scotland—”

“Along with the underground lair full of lab equipment you said was irreplaceable—”

“Machines are replaceable, Tom, you are not!” Hazel snapped at him, her brown eyes narrowing with fury. She stopped typing to let out a slow quaking breath as her fingers curled into fists. “We could have found another way.”

“The other way, Hazel, is to let you, Otto, and Max go,” Tom said sweating with pain as he moved into a more comfortable sitting position. “You didn’t accept that offer. I swear that Mark or Ben would happily take you—”

“And what will you do? Go on vacation to your mum’s until _hopefully_ that contraption falls off of you.” She snorted, raising an eyebrow at him before reeling herself back as she puttered around the room setting up a host of large machines that Tom had little to no understanding of. “I do not want to be there when Mummy Hiddleston has to identify your body because you’re in no shape to fight off even your weakest enemies.” She ran a hand over her face as though trying to rid herself of the thought of him lying on a slab lifeless. “Besides, even if you are an idiot, I like working for you. I hardly think Mr. Strong or Mr. Knightly would be half as entertaining.”

“You haven’t seen Ben at karaoke night,” Tom said with a wry grin.

Hazel cracked a rare smile at the notion of the serious gentleman carrying a tune and then frowned when she looked back at Tom.

It wasn’t hard to identify the worry in her eyes. He could feel himself sweating all over as his body attempted to cope with the pain. His teeth were clenched tight to muffle his groans whenever he made even in a subtle movement. It was a struggle to keep it together, to keep trying to be debonair when all he wanted to do was collapse from exhaustion in front of her and she knew it.

“Whatever happens, I’m going to get you out of this. I promise.” Her voice was quiet with a serious edge to it.

It was as close to a bonding moment as the pair would get and Tom had to admire her determination even if they both knew the situation could prove to be unsolvable.

“That is foolhardy of you to say.” He finally managed to sputter out from his closed lips.

“Obviously, I’ve spent too much time with you.” She wrapped her strawberry blonde hair into a messy bun on top of her head before setting back to work behind her laptop. Her focus completely trained on the data.

Tom surveyed her as she worked. She was the last remaining scientist from his team of experts that had been creating various weapons and other devices for him that would make even James Bond salivate. He could have tried to convince any number of his team to remain when his fortune had dwindled, but he liked Hazel. She didn’t back down from a problem or get distracted by new pet projects as easily as some of the others had. She didn’t have any attachments (or if she did she kept it to herself) and though she could be overly cautious about the testing of experiments, he knew her work could be trusted. She wouldn’t send him out with something that would malfunction in the middle of a heist like so many before her had. If she got him out of this predicament he needed to give her a raise—a big one if he could manage it.

The click of the sensor lock was heard before the door banged open, breaking the quiet revere of the hotel room. Max and Otto fumbled inside carrying a large hockey bag which they dumped on the bed next to Tom. They unzipped it to reveal an unconscious and bound Dr. Gretchen Hoffman.

“s’ good thing that our pal Vincenzo works for her boss or we’d ‘ave never found her.” Otto grunted as he dispensed with his coat. “Mind you, she put up a fight when we found her and was all nails, teeth, and hair pulling.” He ran his hand over the back of his head as if checking to see if Gretchen had pulled out enough of his hair to create a bald spot.

“She tried to take off me ear.” Max removed his cap and showed a few bite marks traveling up his neck to his earlobe.

“Seriously?” Hazel looked to Tom who shrugged at his choice in seduction victims.

“What do you want to do with ‘er?” Otto took the bag out from under the other scientist.

Hazel pulled out a tablet from one of her numerous black bags. She opened up an application, took one of Gretchen’s palms and pressed it firmly against the screen. There was a brief pause before another one of her machines whirred to life on the room’s dresser. Right before the occupants’ eyes, a perfect latex replica of Gretchen’s hand began to form.

“There’s an app for everything.” Max snorted with a laugh as Hazel handed him the tablet to put away.

“Did you also get her purse?” She looked up at Otto who rummaged around Gretchen’s unconscious body until he found a tan Coach bag.

“Why do you need her purse?” Tom frowned while Hazel dumped the contents of it beside him.

“Because Gretchen Hoffman is an egomaniac as well as paranoid. So if there is something else that I have to do to make your pants come off it will be in her purse.”

“Really?” Tom raised an eyebrow at her. “She couldn’t be that stupid.”

“Did I not just say she was an egomaniac?” Hazel pulled up the lining from each of the purse’s pockets. “She wouldn’t want to leave this information with anyone else and finds herself above reproach. What better way to protect your assets then with your own god-like brain?” She cleaned the bag until not even a speck of lint lined the inside. She held out her right hand to Max and snapped her fingers. “Pocket knife.”

He obliged and she tore open the Coach purse with gusto, shredding open the leather and fabric until she found, embedded at the very bottom of the purse, a black USB drive. She plugged the device into her computer and pulled up a file simply labeled: Tom.

“I’m surprised s’not listed as scum of the earth.” Otto chuckled as he leaned over Hazel’s shoulder.

Tom’s murderous glance ended Otto’s laughter. “When I get out of these I might just kill you.”

“I was correct in my theory or at least that’s what this says.” Hazel turned away from the notes and reached over to her industrial 3D replicator where the latex hand-print had been molded and formed to completion. She reached inside and placed the glove like object over her right hand allowing it to blend seamlessly to her skin.  
“Alright, Tom. Stand up. Let’s get this over with.” Hazel helped Tom off the bed and he leaned against the wall beside him to offset the effort.

He noticed her hesitation when he was finally standing and sighed. “This is by far not the weirdest thing you’ve had to do for me.”

Hazel still looked uncomfortable, but acquiesced with a small nod that he was correct. She placed one hand on his pants at the waistband, the contact making Tom jump as the fabric constricted at her touch. She stared up at his face as she gently pulled at the material trying to be careful. It contorted under her grasp and loosened, falling effortlessly from Tom’s body as though it had been cut at the seams.

“Finally.” Tom breathed out a sigh of relief that his agony was over while Hazel flung the offending material off her hand and removed the glove with Gretchen’s hand-print on it.

“No!” The four others in the room stared down at Gretchen who’d finally come too in the last moments and was wriggling around wildly on the bed. “You’ve _ruined_ everything. All my plans—” She made to crawl out toward Hazel, but Max and Otto got a firm hold of the brunette and gagged while she squirmed ferociously against them.

“Tom, get dressed,” Hazel ordered as she took a seat on the bed. “Gretchen and I need to have a little chat.”

As much as Tom enjoyed being free from confinement he’d rather not be naked around his employees any longer. He collected his blue suit from beside the doorway closet and disappeared into the bathroom. Not much could be heard other than Gretchen’s growling struggles and the low murmur of Hazel speaking to the other scientist. He re-entered in time to watch Hazel insert a sedative into Gretchen’s arm with a bit more force than she needed to.

“Leave her on the bed. I don’t want to worry about her anymore.” Hazel sounded exhausted as she began to pack up her materials.

Otto and Max took Gretchen out of the hockey bag and removed her bonds. She’d come around long after they had left and her boss would certainly be wondering where she had disappeared too. She’d be just fine.

Tom noted that her USB drive was happily sitting among her things in plain sight. He looked over at Hazel with a frown. “You’re not going to keep it?”  
It seemed foolish in his opinion. All of that information just willingly given back to the woman who’d just made the last twelve hours of his life a living nightmare.

“So she can try and put an unbreakable bra on me?” Hazel scoffed as she handed off a couple of her bags to Otto and Max. “No thanks. I’ll pass.”

“I’d happily help you out of that conundrum.” Tom smirked as he handed her a miscellaneous little tool which she shoved into one of her bags.

“Stop flirting. You’re not smart enough for all this.” She gestured to herself, shouldering her laptop bag as she packed up the last of her items. “Let’s go home.”

Otto and Max collected the tiny Suzuki Liana (the Jaguar had been sold ages ago) and the villainous four set about to make a return journey to the wintry countryside of Scotland.

“Here.” Hazel proffered a glass vile to Tom as they reclined in the backseat.

He plucked the item from her fingers, smiling when he uncapped it and the familiar scent of his favorite drink tickled his nose.

“Mmm, fangirl tears.” He downed the salty liquid like a shot and reveled in the taste as it swirled down his throat. “Wherever did you find some?”

“I was saving it for a special occasion,” Hazel said. “But when you called me, it seemed reasonable to believe that you would need some. I know how whiny you get when you don’t have any.”

Tom capped the vile and handed it back to Hazel taking her close presence to lean in and kiss her on the cheek. “I don’t know what I would do without you, Hazel.”

Small pink dabs blossomed on her cheeks at his attention before she huffed and scuttled away from him. “You’d die, obviously,” She quipped with a smile as her calm demeanor returned.

“Perhaps.” He mused as he settled back into his seat, thinking, after this escapade, he couldn’t have agreed more.


End file.
